A quick exploration of Yerevan
Arriving in Armenia, the immigration officer thoroughly reviewed me and my passport before letting me in. She found in her system that I had visited 13 years prior (how do they know it was me, considering I was on a different passport?), and asked what my business was on this trip.
She scanned every page in my passport with a UV scanner and dug into my Iranian background. But, she let me in.
Walking into Yerevan, I realised I had forgotten most about the city from my previous visit, and realized (again?) how recognisably post-Soviet the city is. But, not in a bad way. The architecture in the centre is attractive and in good shape, colossal, but with enough decoration and quirks to make it pleasant.
The many memorials, and hilly surroundings, complement a sense of constant discovery.
The city is also strikingly European. Of course, though some, after the breakup of the Soviet Union like to place the Caucasian countries in Asia, Armenia is Europe, but for all its isolation, they are also on the edge of Asia. From Yerevan, India, and China, are nearer than Holland, while the whole country is completely East of Syria, and Iraq is just 300km away.
Yet, Yerevan feels more like a city in the Balkans than anything else.
Of course, Armenia was also the first country to adopt Christianity as the state religion, in 301AD, though some national iconography, I find, also reminds me of Tengrism of Central Asia.
On my only full day in Yerevan, I took the time to visit a few museums. The modern art museum was a bit small, not too bad in what it showed, but in a horrible location; the ground floor of a common four story apartment building.
The National gallery, in a gorgeous building in the centre of town, was overwhelming, and worth a visit.
And then there was the Eduard Isabekyan Gallery. In an attractive, nearly brutalist, building, the venue was offering just two solo exhibitions, and was charging close to an arm and a leg to get in. I wasn’t quite convinced I should cough up the dough, but having a chat with the lovely lady at reception, I was given the tip of returning at 6pm, for the opening of the larger of these two exhibitions.
Enchanted by the opportunity, the opening was well attended, but served no drinks or food (how did they get so many people to come?). The show consisted of two types of work; a series of glitchy photos of Jesus, and a series of large oil paintings, resembling portraits of Jesus in a style reminiscent of orthodox icons.
I thought the photos a bit too simple, but the canvases were nice.
Part of the conceptual framing included two quotes by Boudrillard, referring to, essentially, the spectacle of modern day life. A number of other quotes were only available in Armenian, and were by an Armenian writer with a vey contrasting view on reality, apparently.
I asked the artist what it all meant, but he didn’t speak English. A friend of his offered to translate, but left the discussion with the remark that I just had to read the Armenian writer in question.
I had walked into Yerevan from the airport. A stiff, and not too inspiring walk. I decided to take a bus back to the airport.
The city is littered with little digital kiosks where you can buy all sorts of services, including bus tickets.
I had figured out what locations the airport bus stops at, in town, so I had gotten a ticket and, on the morning of my departure, headed to what I suspected was the terminus of the line. After only a few minutes, the AirPort Express showed up.
I got in, and showed the driver my ticket. And was told I had to pay in cash. The ticket I had purchased was for the city bus. This, apparently, was the shuttle.
Good thing I had just exactly the needed amount in cash left.